A Study In Cats
by sherlockedbyben
Summary: Sherlock gets a cat. John and the others are not impressed.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys it's meee the author trying to write this fanfic before my sister steals the laptop agAIN.**

**I was just sitting down eating and this idea came to me and I thought, why not? It'll be a series of one shots updated pretty quickly each time cause they're fun to write :D**

**So anyway I hope you like it, help a writer out and leave a review, eh? ;)**

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Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective was standing outside a crime scene vigorously smoking a cigarette.

Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective had just finished wrapping up yet another murder mystery for the incompetent police force, the only object not found, the weapon.

Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective stiffened suddenly as he felt something distinctly small and furry brush against his legs with a purr.

Holmes breathed out a stream of smoke and ventured his gaze downwards. The cigarette induced fog cleared and allowed him to see a small, scrawny cat peering up at him, it's yellow eyes gleaming in the dark evening light.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the overly friendly, flea-infested creature, a feeling of contempt washing over him. He took in it's dirty, scrawny appearance, a clump of fur missing from it's back and a scratch at it's ear showing signs of earlier conflict, it's jagged claws and insistent meowing... One word came to the great Sherlock Holmes' mind surrounding the cat. _Stray._

"Piss off," He mumbled halfheartedly, nudging the cat with his foot. He didn't have time for this, although he wanted to actually find the weapon used in commiting the murder - A blunt trophy, blow to the back of the head - he was ready to leave the moment Lestrade gave him the all clear. He wanted to find a case more worthy of his time.

"Piss _off,_" He hissed again as the cat continued to rub against his ankles. What was it doing? Did the bloody animal have a death wish?

He turned his attention away from the cat and stepped away, taking another long drag of his cigarette. He had thought the animal would get the message and leave him alone. He was wrong.

"What the-" Sherlock gasped in pain and surprise as he felt a claw sink into his leg. He looked down to see the cat at his side once again, digging it's manky claws into his trouser leg and positively smiling at him.

"You listen here, you incompetent cat," Sherlock growled, crouching down and bringing his face level with the stray's. "Your pledge to infect me with rabies and drive me insane will be easily brought down by a bottle of Mrs Hudson's best disinfectant- Oh don't play dumb with me you stupid imbecile, I know what your game is-"

"Sherlock! What the hell are you doing?"

Sherlock sighed in annoyance and looked up to see Lestrade coming towards him at a light jog. The Detective Inspector held a look of confusion and disbelief on his face.

"Isn't it obvious?" Sherlock rolled his eyes, remaining in his crouched position on the ground.

"Not really, unless you're going to tell me you were talking to that cat," Lestrade rubbed his forehead in an obvious attempt to rid himself of his Holmes induced headache.

"Threatening it, actually. There's a difference."

"Right, well-"

The rest of Lestrade's sentence went unnoticed by Sherlock as the cat took that moment to grab a mouthful of his scarf which had been thrown loosely around his neck. The scrawny animal tugged and ran off with his favourite piece of clothing.

"You get back here!" Sherlock roared, his anger at the cat flaring. He ignored Lestrade's indignant yells and followed the cat down an alley beside the house where the murder had taken place a few days previous.

"Sherlock, you can't go down there, it's sectioned off!"

Sherlock payed no attention to Lestrade and instead pounced on the cat which had conveniently thrown itself and his scarf into a bush.

The cat gave a yelp and Sherlock felt it squirm in his grasp as he retrieved his scarf. Sherlock let go of the animal and glared at it, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair to remove any stray pieces of twigs and leaves from the foliage.

"Stupid, idiotic, son of a-"

He stopped as a glint other than that of the cat's eyes caught his attention. He dropped to the ground, squinting in the dark to locate the source of the gleam. He grinned as his hands touch the smooth, cold brass of the trophy. One quick look at it told Sherlock that this was the murder weapon. He looked up to find that himself and the cat were directly underneath the window of the looming house.

"Victim was struck with a fatal blow to the back of the head in the bedroom," He murmured to himself quietly, contemplating. "Murder weapon disposed of by tossing it out of the window, murderer clearly was planning on doubling back when everything had died down and retrieving it to dispose of it properly... He wasn't planning on being caught- Oh, _brilliant_!"

Sherlock was grinning from ear to ear as he felt a small furry something brush against his legs again. This time, instead of swatting it away, he bent down and picked the small creature up.

"You are much more intelligent than I took you for," He spoke to the cat with wide eyes. It scratched his hand in return but Sherlock wasn't paying attention. He was reminiscing about the last time he had had a pet. Rebeard. A pang of sadness touched his heart momentarily at the memory of his old friend but he pushed it away. Caring was not an advantage.

"You are me, we'd make a good team," He cooed at the cat who blinked back at him. Sherlock took that as a sign of agreement. "We're better than the others. We understand things they could never even hope t-"

"Sherlock!" Lestrade panted having finally caught him up. "This isn't your case, you're not even technically allowed to be here, you can't just run off lik- What the bloody hell is _that_?!"

"This is my new colleague," Sherlock proffered the scrawny cat at Lestrade who shrunk back at the hissing animal. "I believe you've met before. He helped me solve the case. The murder weapon is here, Lestrade, right under our noses the whole time."

"Sherlock, what are you on about?" Lestrade frowned at the cat but motioned to his men to retrieve the trophy. "Sherlock, that's a _cat_."

"This is so much more than just a cat, Lestrade," Sherlock's eyes widened as he clutched the cat closer to him in defiance. "This cat is cleverer than all of you, and it's a _cat_."

"It's a stray-"

"And how many times have my homeless network helped us out on cases, Lestrade, hmm?" Sherlock interrupted. "Your ability to judge before getting to know the full story astounds me, Detective Inspector. I'm keeping it."

"You're keeping it?" Lestrade scoffed, eyes wide in amusement mingled with sheer disbelief. "Sherlock, you can hardly look after yourself, let alone a cat! You don't even like cats!"

"Au contraire," Sherlock stated with an arched brow. "And it's a him. He's full of charisma, much more interesting than you lot."

"Oi-"

"But since I found him on your crime scene, I'll give you the privilege of naming him after you, Geoff."

"It's Greg," Lestrade almost growled.

"Geoff, it is then."

Lestrade sighed heavily as Sherlock flounced off with the cat in his arms.

"Taxi! Taxi for two please!" He yelled, hailing a cab with one hand, the other wrapped around the cat rather awkwardly, causing the animal to hang upside down with an indignant howl.

"221B, Baker Street," Sherlock uttered the familiar words as the cab began to drive.

"Alrigh- Oi! You can't have a cat in 'ere!" The cabbie objected in a strong Cockney accent. "I don't do cats."

"And I'm sure your wife doesn't 'do' your next door neighbour- Oh wait, she does," Sherlock kept his face blank as the cabbie's eyes widened. "Now _drive_."

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**So that's the end of the first one shot xD It's a pretty stupid idea but it's fun to work with so I'm gunna write more chapters including how the new cat in Sherlock's life affects other characters such as John, Molly, Mrs Hudson and Mycroft. **

**If there's any others you want me to write about, let me know! :D**

**Ooooh I thought this'd be fun and it'd be interesting to see your answers sooo ****random question tiiiime****! **

**Do you guys find fictional villains extrememly attractive? Because I do eg. Loki, Moriarty, the list goes on... And if you do aswell, WHY?! WHY DO WE LOVE THESE GUYS SO MUCH?!**

**It could be something to do with extremely hot actors but heeey anywaaaay**

**See that button down there? The one that says review? Yep, that's the one ;) Clicking it would bring me great joy ;)**

**So let me know what you think :D Thank youu guys!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Heeey I'm baaack again :D Thank you guys so much for your responses, I loved reading them! :D Here's chapter two ;)**

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Mrs Hudson sipped her tea contentedly, curled up in her favourite armchair with a good book. She sank into the world of fiction happily until she caught sight of something moving in her peripheral vision. She froze, adjusting her glasses carefully and turning her head to look for the source of movement. She screamed.

"Rat! There's a rat! _Sherlock_!"

She huddled up on top of the chair, feet curled underneath her so they wouldn't touch the ground. The sound of footsteps were heard pattering down the stairs at a hurried pace as she whimpered at the small shadow-like animal skirting around the edges of the room. She let out a shriek when the door burst open but breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was only Sherlock.

"What's wrong?!" He yelled, taking in her defensive position on the couch. His hair was slightly messier than usual, and he was wearing rubber gloves on his hands.

"Oh, Sherlock, thank goodness!" Mrs Hudson babbled, pointing to the corner of the room. "It's a rat, over there near the table!"

"A rat?" Sherlock cast his eyes to where Mrs Hudson was pointing furiously. To her utmost surprise, he let out a booming bark of a laugh. "That's not a _rat_, Mrs Hudson! It's Geoff."

Mrs Hudson blinked in surprise as Sherlock bent down to scoop up the rat, which on closer inspection, turned out to be a cat. A skinny, scrawny, dripping wet cat.

"Oh, _Sherlock_!" She cried indignantly as the man scratched the cat behind it's ears. "It's dripping all over my carpet, get it out!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and raised a gloved hand in answer.

"Don't worry, I washed him so he won't infect the flat with fleas and other parasites."

"But, Sherlo-"

"See? I took your feelings into consideration like you always tell me to do."

"But, Sherlo- You come back here right now, young man!"

Mrs Hudson took off after Sherlock as he bounded up the stairs to his own flat with the cat in his arms.

"Sherlock, you're not allowed to keep animals in the flat, I forbid it!" Mrs Hudson reached the top of the stairs slower than the detective and entered the messy flat. "This place is untidy enough as it is without all the cat hairs and cat droppings lying around- Imagine all the cleaning up!"

"Why should that bother you? I thought you weren't my housekeeper," Sherlock stated bluntly, bustling about the small room and leaving the cat to roam around by itself. He took off the rubber gloves and tossed them into the sink. Mrs Hudson coud see multiple scratch marks lining the rubber. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out that Geoff didn't take too kindly to water.

"I'm not your housekeeper but I am your landlady," Mrs Hudson crossed her arms across her chest and fixed Sherlock with a glare. "Get. It. OUT."

"But, Mrs _Hudsooon_," Sherlock whined, throwing his hands up in the air like a small toddler in the midst of a childish tantrum. "You let me keep heads in the fridge with no problems, how is this any different?!"

"With no proble- Sherlock, I won't have that animal in here, it's a stray and you won't take care of it. You can hardly take care of yourself, for God sake! Where's John? Still at that job at the clinic? Honestly, we can't leave you alone for two secon-"

"Mrs Hudson, would you do me the honour of shutting up while I concentrate?" Sherlock interupted irritably. "I have a case."

"Another murder, I suppose," Mrs Hudson grumbled. "Honestly, Sherlock, you get so excited abou- Sherlock Holmes, why is that cat covered in nicotine patches?!"

"Hmm? Oh, that," Sherlock shurgged nonchalantly, continuing to pace around the flat with his fingertips steepled under his chin. "Helps me think. Why shouldn't it help Geoff think too?"

"He's a cat, Sherlock!" Mrs Hudson crouched down beside Sherlock's new pet and began plucking off the multiple nicotine patches which dotted it's dark grey fur. The cat hissed in response and took off across the room, cowering under the armchair. Mrs Hudson sighed heavily and threw her hands up in defeat. Sherlock blinked and looked at her as if only just noticing she was there. His gaze lingered on the cat for a moment before he clapped his hands together briskly, a look of realisation dominating his sharp features.

"You're right, Mrs Hudson!" He yelled, fumbling around in his coat pocket and retrieving a packet of cigarettes. "You're completely right. For once, you've outshone even me."

Mrs Hudson opened her mouth to respond but was quickly cut off by Sherlock again. He promptly lit a cigarette with a flourish and sat crosslegged on the armchair, taking a long drag.

"Why waste time on nicotine when you can have the real thing?" He mumbled, the cigarette perched between his lips. He picked up Geoff and sat him on the arm rest of the chair where he began digging his claws in vigorously.

"Oh, Sherlock, you were doing so well," Mrs Hudson chided lightly and shook her head in disappointment. "What's all this about then, eh? I didn't know you were an animal person. Even if you were, I would have taken you for more of a dog person than a lover of cats!"

Sherlock stiffened but didn't reply to her remark. He breathed out a puff of smoke in the cat's face. Geoff sneezed abruptly and Sherlock scoffed.

"You smoke like a beginner," He sneered at the cat who responded with a hiss and proceded to make a bed out of Sherlock's lap. He yelled when the claws sunk in and stood abruptly, causing Geoff to fall to the floor with an indignant meow.

"What the bloody hell was it doing?! Trying to dice my leg?!"

"Yes, I've seen it on the cooking channels, it's a good technique," Mrs Hudson laughed when she saw Sherlock's unimpressed expression. "He was trying to make a bed out of you, dear."

"Do they do this a lot?" Sherlock grumbled to himself, putting out his cigarette and resuming his pacing as he fixed the cat with a glare. "Actually, no, don't answer that." Mrs Hudson rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh.

"Do you even have food for him?" She asked wearily, fixing Sherlock with a piercing glare.

The consulting detective had the decency to look slightly guilty for a moment. "Must be something in the fridge, look in there if you want. Their diets can't be much different from ours."

"Sher- You expect _me_ to feed it?!" Mrs Hudson spluttered indignantly as Sherlock gazed at her with an arched brow. "I'm not your cat-sitter!"

"Just the once?" Sherlock pouted.

"He's your cat, feed him yourself!"

"Excellent," Sherlock grinned, scooping the cat up into his arms and scratching it behind it's ears. "I knew you'd warm to him eventually. I'll pay the rent for both of us."

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**Ayy Mrs Hudson's reaction to Geoff ;;) Thanks for the reviews so far :D And you're right, sass mixed with hot actors makes fictional villains very **_**very**_** sexy.**

**NEXT QUESTION :D**

**If you had to choose, which would you rather : Get rid of your phone or never be able to read any fanfics ever again.**

**AHHH I don't even know if I can answer that one myself :o Interested to see what you guys think :D**

**So anyway, back to the story, what did you think? It's so fun to write, I hope reading it is just as enjoyable! Drop me a review there and let me know what you thought;) Thanks guys!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi again everyoneee :D It's meee, the authorrr :) Wow, thank you so much for the reviews I'm so glad you guys liked it! :D This one is Molly's reaction to the new kitty, wow I'm having so much fun writing this! Enjoyyy!**

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Molly Hooper took a deep, shuddering breath as she entered the morgue. It had been another lousy day, and truth be told she was looking forward to coming to work. For most, the morgue was a morbid, daunting place to be but to Molly, it had a somewhat calming effect on her. It was so silent, so calm, no need for forced conversation.

Molly was relishing in the peace of it all when sudden footsteps hurried down the hall outside at a brisk pace. She stiffened involuntarily, unexpected company was not something she particularly enjoyed. In fact, she tried to avoid it at all costs. Something inside her anxious frame lightened a small bit however as she listened keenly to the familiar long strides coming towards the morgue. She knew who it was before he opened the door and strode in. There was only one person who would show up to the morgue unnanounced at this time.

Sherlock Holmes flounced into the room, whipping off his scarf and laying it on the nearest metal stretcher which was already inhabited by a motionless body, devoid of a pulse.

"Molly," He flashed a quick, somewhat forced smile in acknowledgment which disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared. Molly offered a nervous upwards curve of her lips in return and stuttered a flustered "Hello".

"Um," She began, pursing her lips together and taking a deep breath before continuing. "What- What are you doing here, Sherlock?"

"Working," Was the curt reply, as Sherlock whipped out a magnifying glass and turned to face Molly. "Show me the bodies of William Branning and Paul McIntyre."

"Well, um," Molly struggled to contain her surprised stutter, casually removing Sherlock's scarf from beside one of the corpses as she did so. It made her uncomfortable when people were so careless in her place of work, and leaving a scarf tossed beside a dead body was not very respectful in her eyes.

"Stop!" Sherlock cried, snatching the scarf from her grip and causing her to jump. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"I- What did I do wrong?" Molly asked, startled. "You know you can't mess things around in here, Sherlo-"

Sherlock gave an audible sigh of exasperation and rolled his eyes theaterically. "Geoff?" He called in a loud, baritone voice.

Molly frowned in confusion as Sherlock once again folded the scarf into a neat little pile on the table right beside the body where he had laid it before. Molly started to put a hand out to stop him but he held up a finger in warning, stopping her in her tracks.

"Geoff!" He yelled again, turning his head towards the door expectantly with an impatient glare. Molly's eyes widened when a small, grey cat strutted through the door moments later. It's piercing green eyes bore into Molly and it gave a tiny meow. Molly couldn't help but smile at the sight of the small creature.

"Who's this?" She cooed, crouching down to sratch the cat behind the ears and grinning when it purred in approval.

"That's Geoff, I thought you would've caught that by now."

I know, I just meant..." Molly trailed off as Sherlock took the cat from her and placed it on the pile of clothing. Geoff dug his claws into the scarf and curled up in the makeshift bed, meowing in a friednly manner. Usually Molly would have objected to animals being brought into the morgue, but in this case she had taken quite a liking to the small cat.

"He's cute," She gave Sherlock a tentative smile.

"That's not what most people say," He cocked an eyebrow at her in mild surprise.

"Why, what... What do most people say?"

"Oh, something along the lines of, 'Get that flea-infested animal out of my face'," Sherlock replied with a shrug. "Now, the bodies?"

Molly silently located the two men and gestured to them unquestioningly. She knew better than to ask Sherlock what he was doing. He would more than likely mutter to himself all that she needed to know anyway.

Molly went back to Geoff while Sherlock worked and cooed at him, stroking his small furry head.

"Molly," Sherlock huffed in annoyance. "Would you mind not distracting me or my sniffer cat while we're working?"

"This- This is my place of work actually," Molly rested her hand on the little cat's head, it's soft fur calming her enough to gain the strength to stand up to the consulting detective. "And what do you mean, sniffer cat?"

"Geoff, heel," Sherlock commanded, glaring at the cat knowingly. When it did not respond, he groaned in irritatrion and picked it up, setting it down on top of the dead man he was currently studying. "Go on. Show her what you can do."

Molly gave a nervous chuckle when the cat simply meowed in response, much to Sherlock's annoyance. He bent down so that his face was level with the cat's and spoke in a loud, slow voice, one you might use when talking to a child.

"_Sniff_," He ordered, only for Geoff to squish his face up agaisnt Sherlock's and purr in contentment. He groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm training him to sniff out evidence of the use of recreational substances such as drugs," He stated simply. "I'm training him for many other uses aswell, of course, but we're having a few... Technical difficulties."

"He's a cat, Sherlock," Molly gave a small laugh. The look on Sherlock's face signalled that this was not the first time he had had these words spoken to him. "Train him all you want but he needs love too, you know," She said softly. "Play with him, give him treats."

Sherlock scoffed and looked about to laugh at her words but then stopped, a look of realisation crossing his features.

"You're right," He nodded slowly. "You're absolutely right, Molly. Two coffee's please, one with extra milk and plenty of cream."

"I- What?" Molly smiled nervously, shaking her head in confusion.

"You heard me," Sherlock answered simply and returned his attention to his work. Molly huffed quietly and left to fulfill his request. When she returned, Sherlock was talking again, only it wasn't his usual mutterings, this time it sounded as if he was actually talking to someone. She peeked around the door, coffee in hand to see Sherlock raise the cat up in his arms and give it a brisk shake, a huge beam plastered across his face.

"Excellent, Geoff!" He yelled excitedly, bringing the cat closer to his face and kissing it's head in a display of affection so unlike Sherlock that Molly couldn't help but let a laugh escape her lips.

Sherlock whipped around to face her with a scowl, but his smile soon returned in his enthusiasm for the discovery he had clearly just made.

"Geoff's done it, Molly," He smirked arrogantly. "I knew he had it in him. Traces of the same drug found in each victim, helping this case come along _wonderously_," He brought face closer to Geoff's and pouted at him affectionately. "Isn't that right, Geoff?" He sung.

"I, um, brought the coffee," Molly bit her lip, thrusting the two polystyrene cups at Sherlock. She had no idea how the cat had managed to tell Sherlock this information and highly doubted if it was all down to Geoff himself, but wasn't about to argue.

"Excellent, I knew I kept you around for something," Sherlock took one cup from her and gestured towards Geoff. "Give that to him. He's earned it."

"Um, cats don't drink coffee, Sherlock," She gave a small laugh, unsure if he was being serious or not. The cold stare he gave her let her know that he was being completely serious.

"Coffee. Cat. Now," He brought his own cup to his lips and whipped out his phone to comply a quick text. "I hope you put in enough sugar."

"Sherlock-" Molly laughed but was cut off by the detective.

"It's an experiment," Sherlock explained before she could form the question. "I want to see what affect the sugar has on him and if it enhances his performance while working with me or causes it to deteriorate."

Molly sighed and didn't reply. She took a plastic spoon which she had previously used to add in the sugar and scooped off the frothy cream on top of the steaming, dark liquid. She retrieved a metal dish from the box of metal implements and plopped the dollop of cream onto it. Usually she wouldn't be so careless with her equipment, but for Geoff she was willing to make an exception.

"Here you go," She smiled, setting the dish on the floor in front of Geoff. The cat rushed over and lapped up the cream appreciatively. Molly took a sip of the coffee, sure that the cat would not be drinking it. She smiled, scratching him behind his ears as Sherlock worked.

"Right," He announced finally, wrapping his scarf securely around his neck again. "We're leaving. Come along, Geoff."

"Wait," Molly instructed quickly. She couldn't help but feel disappointed at the fact that Geoff had to go. It was quiet, comfortable comopany that she enjoyed.

She reached for her wrist, fingering the soft, threaded bracelet that rested there. She had owned it since she was a child and it was sentimental to her. It wasn't cold, hard metal like other bracelets, unfriendly to the skin and causing a shiver to run down her when the cool metal brushed off an untouched piece of warm skin. No, this bracelet was special because it was made of bands of soft fabric, entertwined together to make a circle that could wrap around her wirst.

Upon a snap decision, she loosened the bracelet and slipped it off her wrist. Aware that Sherlcok was impatiently watching her every move, she slipped the braclet over Geoff's furry head, making sure it was loose, but not loose enough that it would fall off.

Sherlock frowned slightly, not understanding the significance of such a gesture.

"Molly," He began, but she cut him off.

"Just... Just leave it," Molly smiled warmly, handing the cat back to it's puzzled owner. Sherlock gave her a brisk nod and left with the cat in his arms, and Molly Hooper smiled.

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**Ayy this one was cute! :D It was veeery fun to write :) Thank you guys for the reviews ayy! And thanks for your responses to my question, it was really interesting to see your answers and yes, it was a hard one;) I don't think I was even able to answer it :P**

**This time I've got a philosophical question for you :o Got this one from Classic Doctor Who and it got me thinking...**

**Say you went back in time... If you met a child that you knew would grow up to be ruthless and evil and would kill loads of people, would you then kill that child?**

**That is veeeery thought provoking :/ Personally, I would NOT kill the child, but I'd try to do something to change the course of it's life or something timey wimey like that :P Anyway, I hope you liked that chapter! Leave a review to let me know what you think and if you want to give me any prompts :D I think I'll write John's reaction next :P Thank you! Reviews make me smile :)**


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